cussler.blueandgold-第5章

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　wide　circle　and　came　back　over　the　flotilla　to　hover　at　midchannel。　Pozzi　wanted　a　wide　shot　of　the　lone　boat　speeding　past　the　spectators　to　the　turn　buoy　for　the　final　approach　to　San　Diego。　The　cameraman　glanced　at　the　sea　below　
　to　get　his　bearings　and　saw　wavelets　outlining　a　large；　shiny；　grayish　object　mounding　at　the　surface。　A　trick　of　the　light。　No；　there　was　definitely　something　there。　He　caught　the　attention　of　the　pilot　and　pointed　straight　down。　〃What　the　hell　is　that？〃　the　pilot　said。
　
　Pozzi　aimed　the　camera　at　the　object　and　zoomed　in　with　the　touch　of　a　button。
　
　〃It's　a　balena；〃　he　said　as　the　object　came　into　focus。
　
　〃For　God's　sake；　speak　English。〃
　
　〃How　you　say？　A　whale。　〃
　
　〃Oh；　yeah；〃　the　pilot　replied。　〃You　see　them　migrating。　Don't　worry；　he'll　dive　when　he　hears　the　boats。〃
　
　〃No；〃　Carlo　said　with　a　shake　of　his　head。　〃I　think　he's　dead。　He's　not　moving。〃
　
　The　pilot　put　the　chopper　at　a　slight　angle　for　a　better　view。　〃Hell；　you're　right。　There's　another　one。　I'm　counting　three…no；　four。　Damn！　They're　popping　up　all　over　the　place。〃
　
　He　switched　to　the　hailing　channel。　〃e　in；　San　Diego　Coast　Guard。　This　is　the　TV　helicopter　over　the　race　course。　〃Emergency〃
　　A　voice　crackled　over　the　radio。　〃Coast　Guard　station　at　Cabrillo　Point。　Go　ahead。〃
　
　〃I'm　seeing　whales　in　the　race　course。〃
　
　〃Whales？〃
　
　〃Yeah；　maybe　a　dozen。　I　think　they're　dead。〃
　
　〃Roger；〃　the　radio　man　said。　〃We'll　alert　the　cutter　on　scene　to　check　them　out。〃
　
　〃Too　late；〃　the　pilot　said。　〃You've　got　to　stop　the　race。〃
　
　A　tense　silence　followed。　Then：　〃Roger。　We'll　try。〃
　
　A　moment　later　in　response　to　a　call　from　the　station；　the　Coast　Guard　cutter　moved　from　its　post　at　the　turn　buoy。　Orange　signal　flares　blossomed　against　the　blue　sky。
　
　Ali　saw　neither　the　flares　nor　the　bloated　gray　carcass　floating　in　his　path　until　it　was　too　late。　He　yanked　the　wheel；　missed　the　obstruction　by　inches；　dodged　another　body；　but　could　not　avoid　a　third。　He　veered　off；　yelling　at　Hank　to　cut　power。
　
　Smith's　fingers　flew　to　the　throttle；　and　the　planing　hull　settled　down。　The　Carpet　was　still　going　fifty　miles　an　hour　when　it　hit　the　carcass。　With　an　explosion　of　foul　air；　the　body　popped　like　a　huge　blubbery　balloon。　The　boat　careened　off　on　one　sponson；　Ripped；　somersaulted；　and　miraculously　landed　right…side　up　again。
　
　Ali　and　the　throttle　man　were　saved　from　fractured　skulls　by　their　helmets。　Working　through　a　black　haze；　Ali　reached　for　the　wheel　and　tried　to　turn；　but　there　was　no　response　from　the　rudder。　He　called　out　to　the　throttle　man。　Hank　was　slumped　over　the　throttles。
　
　On　the　Nepenthe　the　captain　had　left　the　bridge　and　was　down　on　the　deck　talking　to　Gloria　Ekhart　when　the　actress　leaned　over　the　rail　and　pointed。　〃Excuse　me；　Captain。　What's　that　gold　boat　doing？〃
　
　The　Flying　Carpet　was　wallowing　like　a　punch…drunk　boxer　trying　to　find　a　neutral　corner。　Then　the　twin　bows　came　around；　and　the　boat　straightened　out；　gained　speed；　and　assumed　a　trajectory　aimed　at　the　yacht's　midships。　The　captain　waited　for　the　boat　to　veer　off。　It　kept　ing。　Alarmed；　he　calmly　excused　himself；　stepped　aside；　and　whipped　a　walkie　talkie　from　his　belt。　His　mental　puter　was　calculating　how　long　it　would　take　the　gold　boat　to　hit　them。
　
　〃This　is　the　captain；〃　he　barked　into　the　hand　radio。　〃Get　this　ship　under　way！〃
　
　〃Now；　sir？　During　the　race？〃
　
　〃Are　you　deaf。　Weigh　anchor　and　move　this　ship　out。　Now。　〃
　
　〃Move？　Where　sir？〃
　
　They　had　a　snowball's　chance　in　hell　of　getting　under　way　in　time；　and　his　helmsman　wanted　to　play　twenty　questions。
　
　〃Forward；〃　he　shouted；　close　to　panic。　〃Just　move　it！〃
　
　Even　as　he　barked　the　order　the　captain　knew　it　was　too　late。　The　race　boat　had　already　cut　the　distance　in　half。　He　started　to　herd　children　to　the　other　side　of　the　yacht。　Maybe　a　few　lives　would　be　saved；　although　he　doubted　it。　The　wooden　hull　would　shatter　into　splinters；　fuel　would　be　spilled　in　a　fiery　conflagration；　and　the　yacht　would　go　to　the　bottom　within　minutes。　As　the　captain　grabbed　onto　a　wheelchair　with　a　little　girl　in　it　and　pushed　her　across　the　deck；　he　yelled　at　others　to　do　the　same。　Too　frozen　by　fear　to　react；　Ekhart　saw　the　gold　torpedo　speeding　toward　them　and　instinctively　did　the　only　thing　she　could。　She　put　her　arm　protectively　around　her　daughter's　thin　shoulders　and　held　her　tight。
　
　Chapter　2
　Austin　was　not　surprised　to　see　Ali's　boat　go　out　of　control。　Ali　was　begging　for　a　flip　or　a　hook。　It　was　the　nature　of　the　accident　that　puzzled　Austin。　The　Flying　Carpet　veered　sharply　in　a　sloshing；　foamy　skid；　then；　living　up　to　its　name；　went　airborne　with　one　side　higher　than　the　other；　like　a　stunt　car　doing　a　two…wheeler　off　a　low　ramp。　The　catamaran　flew　bow…first　for　several　boat　lengths；　landed　with　a　monumental　splash；　vanished　for　a　moment；　then　bobbed　to　the　surface　right…side　up。　　　　
　Austin　and　Zavala　had　found　that　a　speed　just　under　a　hundred　miles　per　hour　kept　them　ahead　of　the　pack　but　was　slow　enough　to　deal　with　changing　water　and　wind　conditions。　The　sea　was　a　mix　of　small　and　moderate　waves；　some　longer　than　others　but　most　crested　with　white　foam。　Not　exactly　Force　12　on　the　Beau　fort　scale　but　nothing　to　ignore。　They　kept　a　sharp　eye　out　for　the　sudden　buildup　of　an　errant　sea　that　could　trip　them　up　again。　　　　
　Zavala　had　brought　the　Red　Ink　around　in　a　wide；　sweeping　curve　and　pointed　the　bows　toward　Ali's　boat　to　see　if　he　needed　help。　As　the　boat　topped　a　wave　and　slid　down　the　other　side；　Zavala　swerved　sharply　to　avoid　a　gray　object　longer　than　the　race　boat。　The　boat　did　a　seam…stretching　giant　slalom　run　around　three　more　large　slate…colored　mounds。　　　　
　〃Whales！〃　Zavala　shouted　with　excitement。　〃They're　every　where。〃
　
　　　　Austin　reduced　their　speed　by　half。　They　passed　another　lifeless　carcass　and　a　smaller　one　nearby　that　could　have　been　a　calf。　〃Gray　whales；〃　he　said　with　wonder。　〃A　whole　pod　of　them。〃　　　
　　〃They　don't　look　healthy；〃　Zavala　said。　　　　　
　〃Not　healthy　for　us；　either；〃　Austin　said；　backing　off　the　throttles。　〃It's　like　a　minefield　out　here。〃　　　　
　　Ali's　boat　had　been　slithering　aimlessly　around　in　the　waves；　the　propeller　chewing　at　air。　The　bows　rose　suddenly；　the　stern　sank；　the　blades　bit　hungrily　into　the　water；　and　the　Flying　Carpet　was　off　like　a　jackrabbit　spooked　by　a　hunting　dog。　It　accelerated　rapidly；　quickly　ing　up　on　plane；　and　headed　toward　the　spectator　fleet。　　　　　
　〃Macho　hombre！〃　Zavala　said　with　admiration。　〃Bounces　off　a　whale　and　goes　to　shake　hands　with　his　fans。〃　　　　　
　Austin　also　thought　Ali　was　taking　a　bow。　Ali's　boat　streaked　across　the　open　water　like　a　gold　arrow　homing　in　on　a　bull's　eye。　With　his　eye　Austin　drew　an　invisible　line　on　the　water；　ex　tending　the　Flying　Carpet's　course　until　it　intersected　with　a　big　white　boat　that　was　anchored　broadside　to　the　race　chute。　The　graceful　lines　identified　the　vessel　as　an　old　luxury　yacht。　Austin　noted　with　appreciation　how　the　designers　had　blended　form　and　function　in　the　wooden　hull。　He　glanced　again　at　Ali's　boat。　It　was　moving　faster；　continuing　toward　the　yacht　in　an　undeviating　line。　　　　　
　Why　haven't　they　stopped　or　turned　away？　　　　
　Austin　knew　a　race　boat's　hull　was　tougher　than　nails；　but　the　rudders　and　the　connecting　tie　bar　were　exposed。　If　the　bar　had　been　bent；　the　rudders　could　have　been　locked　in　place。　Well；　so　what？　Even　if　the　steering　were　locked；　all　the　crew　had　to　do　was　shut　down　the　engines。　And　if　the　throttle　man　couldn't　do　it；　the　racer　could　use　the　kill　switch　activated　by　an　arm　cord。　The　boat　had　struck　the　whale　a　glancing　blow；　but　the　impact　still　would　have　been　severe；　even　worse　when　it　slammed　down　onto　the　water。　It　would　have　been　like　hitting　cement。　Even　with　helmets　and　restraining　harnesses；　Ali's　team　
　might　have　been　shaken　up；　at　the　very　least；　or；　worse；　incapacitated。　He　looked　back　at　the　yacht　and　saw　the　young　faces　lining　the　decks。　Good　God！　Kids。　The　yacht　was　full　of　kids。　
　There　was　a　flurry　of　activity　on　deck。　They　had　seen　the　on　ing　race　boat。　The　yacht's　anchor　was　ing　out　of　the　water；　but　the　boat　would　have　to　sprout　wings　to　avoid　a　disastrous　collision。　　　　
　〃It's　going　to　hit！〃　Zavala　said；　more　in　wonder　than　in　apprehension。　　　　Austin's　hand　seemed　to　move　by　itself；　the　fingertips　pushing　down　on　the　throttles。　Engines　roaring；　the　Red　Ink　lurched　forward　as　if　it　were　a　racehorse　stung　by　a　bee。　The　acceleration　caught　Zavala　by　surprise；　but　he　tightened　his　grip　on　the　steering　wheel　and　pointed　the　Red　Ink　at　the　runaway　boat。　Their　ability　to　intuit　what　the　other　was　thinking　had　saved　their　skin　more　than　once　while　carrying　out　a　NUMA　assignment。　Austin　slammed　the　throttles　forward。　The　catamaran　came　up　on　plane　and　streaked　across　the　open　water。　They　were　going　twice　the　speed　of　the　Carpet；　ing　in　at　an　angle。　Interception　was　only　seconds　away。　　　　
　〃Keep　us　parallel　and　e　up　alongside；〃　Austin　said。　〃When　I　yell；　nudge　him　to　starboard。〃　　　　
　Austin's　brain　synapses　danced　with　enough　electrical　energy　to　light　up　a　city。　The　Red　Ink　went　up　the　side　of。　a　wave；　flew　through　the　air；　and　came　down　with　a　jaw…jarring　splash。　The　yacht　was　moving　slowly　forward。　This　would　give　them　a　slight　increase　in　the　margin　of　error；　but　not　much。　　　　
　The　two　boats　were　almost　side　by　side。　Zavala　displayed　his　incredible　skill　as　a　pilot；　bringing　the　Red　Ink　closer　despite　the　waves　from　the　broadening　wake。　Austin　let　them　overtake　the　Ca7pet；　move　past　it；　then　slowly　pulled　back　on　the　throttles　to　match　the　speed　of　the　other　boat。　They　were　only　yards　apart。　　　　Austin　had　slipped　into　the　nether　land　between　intellect　and　action；　pure　reflex；　his　every　sense　at　full　alert。　The　ear…splitting　thunder　of　four　powerful　engines　drowned　out　attempts　at　rational　thought。　He　had　bee　one　with　the　Red　Ink；　his　muscles　and　sinews　joined　with　the　steel　and　Kevlar；　as　much　a　part　of　the　boat　as　the　pistons　and　driveshaft。　The　boats　were　out　of　sync；　one　up　when　the　other　was　down。　Austin　fine…tuned　the　Red　Ink's　speed　until　they　were　like　two　dolphins　swimming　abreast　in　perfect　formation。　
　Up。　
　Down。　
　Up。　
　〃Now！〃　he　yelled。　　　　
　The　space　between　the　racing　boats　narrowed　to　inches。　Zavala　eased　the　steering　wheel　to　the　right。　It　was　a　delicate　maneuver。　If　it　were　done　too　sharply；　they　would　hook　hulls　and　possibly　flip　into　the　air　in　a　lethal　tangle。　There　was　a　loud　hollow　thump　and　a　screech　of　tortured　carbon　posite　as　the　hulls　came　together；　then　bounced　apart。　Zavala　brought　the　boat　over　again　and　held　it　firmly　in　position。　The　wheel　wanted　to　tear　itself　out　of　his　hands。　　　　
　Austin　gunned　the　throttles。　The　sound　of　the　engines　was　horrendous。　Again　the　boats　crashed。　It　was　like　trying　to　herd　a　very　large　and　powerful　steer。　Eventually　the　F~7ing　Carpet　began　to　yield　its　forward　momentum　and　angle　off　to　the　right。　They　drifted　apart　once　more。　Warmed　to　the　game；　Zavala　slammed　the　boats　together。　The　angle　increased。　　　　
　〃Haul　off；　Joe！〃　　　　Ali's　boat　surged　ahead　on　a　track　that　would　miss　the　yacht's　stern　and　sped　toward　t